"Madame, it is time that you should be disabused concerning the error under which you are laboring. I am not entitled to your thanks, the money which you receive from an unknown hand is not sent to you by me, I tell you again; but I have a shrewd suspicion from whom it does come."
"Who is it, pray? For heaven's sake, give me the name of that generous friend."
"The Comte de Brévanne, madame."
Madame de Grangeville made a slight grimace and shut her lips together in annoyance, muttering:
"My husband! what an idea! how on earth could he have learned that I was in straitened circumstances?"
"It was I who told him, madame, after I had the honor to pay you a visit; I did not think that I did wrong in informing Monsieur de Brévanne that your situation was not—was not prosperous."
"I did not give you that commission, monsieur.—But in that case—the flower girl——"
"It was he who sent her also, madame."
"Really, monsieur, I utterly failed to understand the romance that that girl told me. Someone has believed, or imagined, things which are utterly absurd."
"It seems, madame, that Monsieur de Roncherolle understood better than you did, for he did not fail to acknowledge that young flower girl as his daughter."